


How Not to Keep a Secret

by DilynAliceBlake (orphan_account)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: But don't call him that to his face, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Tony Stark is a magical creature, it insults his dignity, mermaid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5708251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/DilynAliceBlake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark avoided the water.  Not the small, every day amounts like rain or what went in coffee.  He avoided submerging himself in bodies of water.  Once it was deep enough that standing it would reach his knees he gave it a wide berth.  Because once he was in water like that, he grew a tail.</p><p>written early in the franchise so missing lots of characters</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

**A/N: This used to be on ff.net.  When I took it off there I lost two chapters of work.**

Tony Stark avoided the water.  Not the small, every day amounts like rain or what went in coffee.  He avoided submerging himself in _bodies_ of water.  Once it was deep enough that standing it would reach his knees he gave it a wide berth.  Because once he was in water like that, he grew a _tail_.

Tony didn’t like to use the term “merperson.”  It didn’t exactly bring to mind curved black talons, slit amber eyes, scales and webbing, and rows of pointed teeth.  So, since Tony was a badass aquatic predator, not a singing Disney monstrosity, he preferred referring to himself as a sea dragon.  Sure, he didn’t have wings, but he thought the cool growling hissing noises he could make more than made up for that.

When he was being a totally bitchin’ sea dragon, he got to have stunningly bold crimson scales, and nice contrasting yellow accents on the fins.  At first he had been a little bummed at the lack of camouflage, but then he had realized that sea creatures probably had different cones in their eyes, and for all he knew he blended in perfectly well with the spectrum of colors through which they viewed the world.  He also thought that maybe he was high enough up on the food chain that camouflage wasn’t an issue.

Oh, and get this, he also got _horns_.  Sure, they were kind of small, maybe an inch high, and about the same diameter at the base, but since they were the same bold read as his scales, also tipped in that bright gold, any bigger would likely be ostentatious.

He had wondered why they weren’t the _black-shining-red_ of his claws, until he realized that his hair was, instead of auburn.  Tony though that they were cooler without blending into his curls.

It was pretty great, being part water serpent dragon thing, right up until he realized that if his legs weren’t submerged he was still just as capable of drowning as anyone else.  And wasn’t that just a hoot-and-a-half, being water boarded in some cave and realizing, hey, no gills, claws, not even that nifty second eyelid, and was this what swimming was like for regular people, because it _sucked_.

Fast forward a bit to the suit.  Yeah, he based the coloration off of his scales; but could you blame him?  It’s just so totally _him_.

Tony gets it from his mother, of that much he’s sure .  He knows he was a waterbirth, and has a few blurry memories of being very small and her hand with red claws and pale silvery pink and cream scales.  Other than that, the topic of being part fish was completely avoided in the Stark household.  Tony doesn’t think his father even knew.  Maybe if Howard Stark had realized what a convenient potential experiment Tony was he wouldn’t have gotten so wound up over the loss of the good captain. 

It was irrelevant at this point.  There was a rather urgent matter at hand.  Tony didn’t want SHIELD experimenting on him any more than he had his father, so he’d made up some lie about water pressure and the Arc Reacter ( _as if_ ) to avoid large bodies of water.  Unfortunately all that would be for naught if Steve succeeded in prying him away from his grip on the headboard and into the bath that Natasha was currently drawing.


	2. Chapter 2

“Tony, come on, we have to do something to break this fever!  Geez, let go, why are your headboards so sturdy?”

Tony snorted.  When Coulson had suggested a team of superheroes, he’d been all for it, even suggesting his Tower as a base.  It had been pretty awesome, meeting the candidates as the Agent rounded them up, but this was potentially a problem.

“Shower, Cap, shower!  I’ll let go if you promise not to plop me into a tub full of water.  I don’t take baths.”

Bruce looked sympathetic as he passed through Tony’s room into the master bath, carrying a tray of medical supplies.  Clint’s voice came through the door; he must have climbed in through the vent or gone by when Tony was distracted struggling against Cap.

“If you don’t take baths, then why the hell is your tub the size of a pool and your bathroom bigger than your bedroom?”

“Shut up Bird Boy, don’t contradict me!  I don’t want a bath, I refuse!”

Natasha strode into the room, then raised both eyebrows in clear surprise at how the strength of his grip was holding up against the Super Soldier’s attempts.

“If I pull any harder it could dislocate his shoulders.  I don’t want to hurt him,” said Steve concernedly.

“Stark, stop being childish.  Let go of the bedframe and you can have a shower instead of a bath.”

Tony sagged at Natasha’s words, only to begin kicking and screaming in Steve’s arms once they entered the bathroom.

“Liar!  Lying Liar full of fucking Lies!  Jarvis, lockdown code Dragonhunter X49, no one in or out but Bruce, cut all signal!”

“Understood, Sir,” came the cool British reply.

The door sealed shut with a hiss, and the team all looked at him with startled expressions.  Natasha frowned down at her phone, undoubtedly having tried it once her earpiece relayed nothing but static.  Steve looked wary, Clint irritated, and Bruce just seemed surprised that, whatever was going on, Tony trusted him enough to give him access to the doors.

The inventor rolled his eyes.  “Oh, come on, Brucie.  Whatever goes down, I know you of all people aren’t going to give me over for SHIELD’s science department to prod at. Unfortunately those three,” he gestured, “are all good little government lackeys.”

“Tony….” Steve ventured, sounding nervous, “Why exactly did you feel the need to seal us all in here?”

Tony’s reply was frank.  “There are two options here, Boyscout.  You can either take my word when I say that _I’m. Not. Sick._ Return me to my bed, and we all forget that this ever happened.  OR, you can continue with this monumental breach of privacy, in which case you’d all better get comfortable because you aren’t going _anywhere_ until I’m satisfied with how the matter has been sorted.”

He settled himself casually in Steve’s arms where he was being cradled bridal style to make a point.  Clint and Steve spoke at the same time.

 “What matter?  Nothing has—”

“Breach of privacy?  Tony, you’re already naked, what more could—”

Tony growled.  Unfortunately, they must have been close enough to his enormous tub for his body to sense the water because he had enough access to his dragon vocal chords for it to come out as a _growl_ , the deep rumble echoing through his chest enough to startle Steve into dropping him.  He landed with a _Sploosh!_ Into the water, and for the first few moments tried to scramble to out before—

Tony stilled and let out a resigned sigh when he felt his skin tighten.  He closed his eyes and laid back, nothing to do now but accept the situation and deal with the aftermath.

“Tony, I don’t understand why you’re so against this, I looked at the schematics for the reactor, and even if the water were deep enough—” Bruce stopped talking.

Then entire room, in fact, was dead silent.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony opened slit pupiled amber eyes and looked at the room with slightly changed perception. 

Bruce: family, clan, ally, strong.

Clint: weak, prey, arrogant, ignore.

Steve: strong, attractive, commanding, potential mate.

Natasha: threat, scared, prey?

Once he had assessed the room, he kept his gaze trained on Natasha’s gun.  Aimed to wound, but her hands were shaking.  The smile Tony gave her was more a warning flash of his teeth than anything else.  He lounged against the tiled wall of the tub, swishing his tail lazily in front of him.  It started just below his hip bones and was several feet longer than his legs.

“Go ahead, Natka.  Shoot.  Better aim to kill though, the scales are bulletproof.”

She flinched.

Okay, so maybe he was feeling a little vindictive.  He sighed.  “Put the gun down, Tash, and let’s talk about this like reasonable adults.  Well, I’ll be honest, my brain isn’t run exactly like a human’s right now, but I can avoid violence so long as I don’t feel threatened.”

Natasha looked less like a bundle of nerves, having assessed that he was still in at least partial possession of his faculties.

“Brucie baby, be a doll and go get sushi.  Nat will likely feel a lot better knowing I’m not hungry.”  Bruce seemed relieved for the excuse to escape the tension of the room.

Tony saw Steve gazing with awe, hand twitching as if in want of a sketchpad, and (mostly) resisted the urge to preen.

Widow frowned.  “How did you know I was nervous?”  Her curiosity beat out her need to remain stoic.  Tony gestured flippantly, though he knew his casualness about the claws would do anything but put her at ease.

“Your hands were shaking, and you just _register_ as nervous, the same way Cap says ‘leader’ and Clint says ‘weak and arrogant.”

“Hey, I’m not—”

“Sorry, you’re too self-assured, not on the alert at all.  In a room with a predator, the unaware are the easiest prey.”

Taking Tony’s appearance in more carefully, then looking to Natasha, he seemed to realize that she had just admitted to being nervous.  Clint took several steps back, not wanting to be near anything which could make the unshakable girl, well, shake.

Tasha crinkled her brow.  “If my hands were shaking, it wasn’t enough to be visible to the human eye.”  Suddenly she looked intrigued.  “When I was a little girl, my mother told me of a serpent creature which could see into a person’s soul and use what it found there to make them beg for death, before it would grant it and eat their heart.  SHIELD could really—”

The door slammed open and Bruce stormed back into the room, managing to be loud and intimidating and cheerful and innocuous simultaneously.  “Sushi!  I brought sushi for Tony.  I also have Lo Mein, Teriaki, and eggrolls.”

Tony really hoped the look he gave Nat conveyed “Your mother must have been one sick individual to tell a little girl such a seriously fucked up story, and also, ew, no, that’s weird,” because talking over Bruce would have been rude.

While yes, normally Tony wouldn’t care, Bruce had just saved him from a conversational landmine.  And brought food.  Such things would be better faced after he ate.  Which he now could, because Bruce had brought him sushi.

After a few bites, Tony decided that he didn’t trust the look to have been enough.

“Don’t worry, Spider Queen.  If I end up killing you, I’ll do it quickly.  And why would I eat just your heart?  What a waste.”  He made a ‘hmmm’ noise, considering the matter in a way he probably wouldn’t have had he been entirely human.  “Yeah, no.  That’s a lot of tearing to get to one little organ for something as petty as sentimental significance.  No, I’d go for the throat.  Tearing with teeth is more fun anyway.”

It said an awful lot about the assassin that she looked reassured at this.


	4. Chapter 4

Agent Phil Couldson of Strategetic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, did not particularly  _care_  that Tony Stark had, for some as-of-yet un-ascertained reason, hacked SHIELD's power board. Later, the paperwork for that incident was going to be a bitch to file. Currently? To be frank, he had bigger fish to fry.

Space anomaly sized fish. Possibly hostile alien _viking_ sized fish.  _He had not yet had time to pause for coffee_  sized fish. He sincerely hoped that Fury did not try and manipulate him today, because Coulson wasn't entirely sure that he'd be able to resist telling the Director where to shove it.

Norse gods,  _sonnuvabitch_. At least his job was never boring.

He entered what Stark had informed him was an all access keycode and swept into Tony's main bedroom with his best 'authority face' on. Oh. It seemed he wouldn't have to hunt them each down in turn. Bruce Banner was awkwardly poking a pair of chopsticks into a carton of noodles. Clint looked rather queasy, his face pallid and his eyes flicking around nervously. Coulson didn't have time to determine if he was more scared or nauseous. Natasha just looked thoughtful.

"If Stark is feeling better, get him, too. Someone fetch Rogers. Avengers Assemble, this is  _not_  a drill. There is a Situation down in New Mexico, I'll brief you on the way. Domestic disputes can be put on hold."

Nat spoke first. "They're both in there," she cut her eyes towards the door to the bathroom, "It was conclusively determined that Iron Man is not sick. His fever was due to… Other causes, which, at this juncture, we have agreed not to discuss. That having been said, I refuse to approach and take the risk of angering him."

Clint turned rather green. "Oh no, I am  _not_  going in there again. I saw more than was safe, I saw more than I needed to, definitely more than I  _wanted_  to, already. Not being discriminatory here, just, no. There is not enough therapy in the world for that."

Bruce looked even more uncomfortable. "I...would rather not interrupt. Actually, me and the Other Guy have reached our tension limit." His face was flushed an awkward pink. "I'll certainly never look at Tony the same way again."

Coulson would, on any other occasion, have assessed the situation carefully, pressing for more information and trying to wheedle something less vague about what had happened out of his team. Later, he would blame the high stress and lack of coffee for the fact that he just ignored no less than  _seven_  potential Red Flags. Eight, once he started towards the bathroom and Jarvis warned him quite clearly that it was a bad idea.

The way things played out, he simply barged into the room.

The way things played out, he would likely be attending those therapy sessions with Barton.

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This is where the missing chapter used to live, but like hell am I trying to rewrite upwards of a thousand words from memory.  Use your imagination for the missing flirting.  Steve blushes alot, insists he was never a boyscout, and gives just as good as he gets when it comes to back and forth with Tony.**

Tony Stark was stunning. Steve Rogers had always leaned more towards art for self expression, and he knew that whatever words he may shove together, his description wouldn't do Tony justice.

Steve wondered when Stark had become  _Tony_  in his head.

' _Jesus_ ,' he realized ' _I'm ogling Howard's little boy_.'

The thought should have stopped him. It didn't.

' _Pay attention,_ ' he told his brain. Tony was saying something, but golly, he was just so beautiful...

Rats, he might have said that part out loud.

Tony was talking again, saying something about tearing someone's throat out, and really he should intervene, except his brain suddenly wasn't bothered by that at all. Apparently the addition of teeth had given his brain the go ahead to excuse Tony from the expectation of human decency.

' _Don't think about decency_ ,' he thought. ' _Thinking about decency leads to thinking about indecency and really how was he expected to be able to get the texture of those scales down on paper without some up close investigation_?'

He'd have to touch them. For research. In the name of art. Possibly with his mouth. How sensitive were they? Bulletproof didn't necessarily mean that they couldn't  _feel_...

Steve's brain came back online just in time to hear Tony say something about biting.

"...like the fact that I bite?"

Steve meant to deflect, really truly he did. But his brain-to-mouth filter obviously still wasn't working properly because what came out of his mouth sounded a lot like flirting.

' _Paragon of Purity?'_ he asked said brain. ' _Seriously? That's what I come up with on short notice? I'm such a dork!'_

Except, maybe not, because Tony was flirting right back, and holding his mouth open, obstensively to showcase his teeth, but more likely to make Steve's mind go... Exactly where it went, actually.

Investigate with his  _tongue_ , really?

Well, he didn't have to be told twice.

Steve surged forward and initiated a kiss, which was slightly awkward since Tony already had his mouth open, but true to his reputation Stark got with the program quick.

He mentally congratulated himself on the use of the term "get with the program" before suddenly the feeling of claws tearing through his shirt caught his attention. Steve supposed that was only fair. Technically speaking, Tony wasn't wearing any clothes at all.

"Jarvis, let the others back into my suite. Keep them restricted there, but I want them  _out of here_ ," Tony said. Well, the last part he growled.

Right. Steve had forgotten about them actually. His lips were covered in lots of little cuts from Tony's teeth, though whether Tony had nipped at him purposefully or that was just a side effect of kissing him was a tossup. Either way, the little kisses he left along Tony's throat and collar bone left smears of his blood. The possessiveness and satisfaction that surged through him at the sight might should have been worrying. Oh well. He slid down into the water in an effort to get closer. Grabbing Tony's jaw to guide their lips back together, Steve spared a passing thought for consequences and the fact that he really,  _really_ , didn't care about them in that moment.

"Oh, holy- What happened to your  _shirt_  Rogers?"

That wasn't him or Tony, their mouths were occupied. Tony was now sort of distracted glaring over his shoulder at the interloper, but at least this time the kissing hadn't ceased. Was that Phil? Steve pulled away, still sort of dazed. Tony took the opportunity to bare his teeth and growl possessively.

"'S'at Phil?" Steve asked, rather than turning around. Tony's claws were poised warningly against his movement.

Deciding to take the silence as a yes Steve resigned himself to the fact that really, deciding not to care about consequences had just been tempting fate.

"Stark do you have- You know what? Nevermind. Doesn't matter.  _Doesn't matter._  You will be filling out forms later pertaining to the fact that apparently the world can't only go a little crazy, so you two are now a thing."

Tony licked some of Steve's blood off his lips.

"Can I word it like that?"

Steve could picture Coulson throwing his hands up in the air in defeat.

"Fine. Whatever. We can discuss this," a pause where Steve imagined the agent gesturing awkwardly in their direction, "after we deal with whatever the hell is going on down in Texas. Avengers Assemble."

Tony pouted, but apparently his human mind won out because he released Steve and the tub began to drain.

"...You have a tail. You have a tail, and I just saw Captain America kissing a guy, and I am never skipping my morning coffee again."

Steve wondered if an impromptu make out session in a pool tub constituted being a thing.

"Tony, are we a thing?" Dagnabbit brain-to-mouth filter!

Oh. Oh, Tony was blushing. Maybe the lack of filter wasn't so terrible.

"You're cute when you blush." Nope, back to being a bad thing.

"AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!"

Oh, right. Guess they would have to wait and discuss the thing-thing later. Hopefully with more kissing. Though maybe not in the tub next time.

Get it together. Hero thoughts. Crises to investigate, people to save, etc.

This was going to be a long mission.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Once on the Helicarrier Phil Coulson decided he was in _desperate_ need of some patience, if today was _any_ indication of what being an official handler would be like.  Steve was holding Tony's hand, and somewhere on the walk to the Helicarrier had obtained a rather noticeable hickey.  Tony was at least back to looking human, though Clint was alternatively teasing Phil for having walked in on the couple and glancing at Tony and shivering.  Natasha already had her professional face on.  Bruce was taking advantage of the travel time to fit in a nap.

Agent Coulson wasn't sure what, besides needing some drastic perception alteration, to make of the little display in Tony's bathroom.  He thought that perhaps there was only so much shock one could handle at a time, and Steve kissing Tony had been the stalwart agent’s limit.  The fact that Tony could apparently bruise the super soldier, while interesting, was not enough to shake him.  The fishlike attributes?  Mere window dressing.

Phil was proven so very, _very_ wrong about this working theory on shock limits when the ground was once again torn from beneath his metaphorical feet.  In the hospital room, the rather enthusiastic blonde lunk whom evidence suggested to be an _alien_ seemed to _recognize_ Tony.  As in Stark.  Billionaire with claws in anything that went _zap_ when dropped in water. 

Dammit, claws and water.   So much for having control of his thoughts.  

Stark, for his part, seemed quite at ease about the man (alien?) but then again, he was also completely at ease around Banner and Romanov, and had none other than Virginia Potts as a secretary and friend.

Say what you will, the woman was formidable.

“Stark, do you know this man?”

“I can’t say we’ve met, Agent.”

“Had today not already been a veritable _clusterfuck_ of one surprise after another, I might would let that wording slide.  Let’s try this again.  Do you know ‘Thor,’ by any definition of the word know?”

“Well, not in the biblical sense, but-”

“Friend Stark is my nephew!”  Thor becomes too excited to stay quiet.  He has been much brighter since catching sight of Tony.

“Your nephew?”  Steve seems skeptical.

“Well,” Thor amends, “a several generations removed _grand_ -nephew.”

“Right,” Coulson decides.  “Why don’t we all go out for coffee?”

 

**a/n: @ ppl who r still reading this trainwreck; thnx 4 ur patience, i lub u all :D**


	7. Chapter 7

The town they’re in is small, but it isn’t difficult to find a coffee shop, and for that everyone is grateful.  The whole gaggle of them settle in after Bruce takes the initiative and shoves several smaller tables together.

 

Tony opens his mouth to try and explain, but Phil actually _shushes_ him, then leaves them all to stare awkwardly at each other while he goes to pick up his coffee from the counter.

 

The barista wasn’t quite sure whether or not they were all serious when they were giving names, but she dutifully calls out “Agent,” and suddenly all the troublesome nervousness that had before been absent swamps Tony.

 

He forces a laugh, and is glad he sounds more exasperated than hysterical.  Tony gets the feeling that Coulson is already covering the hysterics angle, and probably has more of a right to.

 

The only surprise Tony has faced today was seeing Thor ( _Is he actually Thor?!?_ ) and recognizing, even in human form, that he was _clan_ , marked as family by his family.

 

It was a really strong feeling.  Tony has the impression that anyone with even the teensiest bit of magic would be able to see the sign of someone more powerful on Thor.  It’s basically a giant tag on the alien claiming him and warning off others from messing with him.

 

“Dude, you know you’re sort of marked as a magical person’s property?  You’re basically carrying around an active threat to anyone magical who tries shit on you,” Tony says, while, very distantly, he internally freaks out over the fact that he’s part alien.

 

Thor seems oddly pleased to hear this.

 

“I had wondered how you recognized me.  It seems that Loki cares more than he lets on.”

 

Phil comes back with several cups that the barista had assured him were for their table.  He regrets ordering first and saying his name was Agent, because the others obviously took their cues from him.

 

“Best Looking, Funniest, The Smart One, what is this, a high school yearbook?”

 

Suddenly the barista calls out “Cutest Couple?” and Steve and Tony rise from their seats.

 

Defeated, Phil sits to drink his coffee.  “I’m working with children.  Handler is just a fancy word for babysitter.  This is my life.”

 

Natasha takes the cup labeled “Best Looking” while Bruce reaches for what is undoubtedly a tea in the cup labeled “The Smart One.”  That leaves Clint for “Funniest,” and Coulson with the beginnings of a headache.


	8. Chapter 8

**a/n: don't be disheartened by short chapters.  my goal is to get this to ten thousand words by next weekend.  wish me luck :/**

 

A scientist and her assistant walk into a coffee bar.

 

Then the assistant punches the absentminded scientist in the arm.

 

“Ow!  Darcy, what-”

 

“Dude, isn’t that the guy you hit with your car?”

 

“Oh, it is."  After they had tried the hospital with no luck, Jane thought they would never find him again. "I wonder who he’s with?”

 

“Are you _blind_?  That’s Tony Stark!  Do you think he’ll buy me a coffee?”

 

“Darcy, I think he might be on a date, it would be rude to interrupt.”

 

Tony and Steve went back to the table with a cup apiece, though they regularly switch between themselves.

 

“Oh my god!  Who’s his date?  That’s adorable, they’re sharing!  Though, not quite in a cheesy milkshake way.”

 

Thor comes back with an entire tray of muffins, and Darcy’s cheery demeanor dissipates.

 

“No way, they took the last of the Berry Blasters!  Now what am I supposed to eat with my macchiato?”

 

“Oh come on, it’s not that big a deal, just pick a different-”

 

But it’s too late, because Darcy has marched up to the party’s table, and Jane has no choice but to follow.


	9. Chapter 9

**a/n: i cant remember how it transpired in the thor movie but in my story janes research hasnt been sniped yet.  im powering through a headache and some minor writers block, because i said i would work on this so i will.**

 

“Yo, Spaceman!” Darcy yells, even though she’s already standing at their table.  “You can’t just hog all the best goods!  It’s not cool!”  She snatches a muffin and twists another chair to face their group.

 

“I’ll just, go place our orders then I guess.”  Jane goes to retrieve coffee, while Tony explains to Thor that Darcy’s yelling actually goes _against_ earth restaurant culture, so please do not.

 

“So, are you actually like, _the_ Thor?” Darcy asks, since no one else seems to have gotten around to it.

 

“I know of no other,” he basically confirms, and Darcy fistpumps.

 

“I tazed _Thor_!  I am officially a badass!  Jane’s going crazy, apparently however you got here pretty much confirmed her life’s work.”

 

Before Phil can ask who the spunky woman suddenly at their table is, he gets a text telling him to seize everything pertaining to Thor’s arrival from a Ms. Jane Foster.  Darcy’s utter disregard for boundaries puts her reading over Coulson’s shoulder, and then her temper lights like that big ass tree they always have in central park around the holidays.

 

She snatches the phone, her success no doubt only do to the unexpectedness of this course of action, and hits the green button.

 

“What is it, Coulson?”

 

“Look, I’m assuming that’s the guy I just took this phone from, but that doesn’t matter, because we have a problem.  You can’t just take Jane’s shit because your own research department is full of miserable slugs and she figured it out and got the footage.”

 

“To whom am I speaking?”

 

“Darcy, and-”

 

Then Tony takes the phone, having recognized Jane and put together what was transpiring, and now irritated with the Director as well.

 

“You have absolutely no right to just seize assets and knowledge from one of the brightest minds of our generation, I’ll push her copyrights through myself if I have to-”

 

Thor isn’t sure about much of what’s going on, but he knows enough to realize that someone is trying to take something that isn’t theirs, and in a roundabout way it’s his fault.  The lady bringing coffee to the table now is obviously a researcher of some kind, and whoever is on the phone has struck a nerve in more than one of his new companions.

 

Thor seizes the phone.

 

“Hello?” he says, and wonders if the Allspeak will carry over technology.  He is pleased to note that it does, because a very angry response is soon understandable from the device.

 

“Who am I talking to _now_?”

 

“I am Thor,” he says, because he is.

 

“Thor?”

 

“Yes.”

 

A deep sigh through the nose can be heard.

 

“Put Coulson on the line.”

 

Coulson takes his phone back, having watched it be passed around like a game of hot potato, and is actually surprised that Captain America hadn’t jumped in there with a lecture on ethics.

 

“Hello Director,” he says pleasantly, because he knows that his being at ease and unperturbed will annoy the short tempered man.

 

“Coulson, do you mind explaining _why_ I wasn’t informed you had the suspected extraterrestrial in your company?”

 

“I do actually,” he says, “but I’ll ask Jane about sharing her research.”  Phil uses her first name to give the impression that they’re all friendly and a united front, despite not yet having had the chance to talk to her.  Fury cusses and gives some overused line about results and consequences for insubordination, but Coulson knows that that means his boss doesn’t actually care how SHIELD gets ahold of Jane’s tech, as long as they do.

 

Phil hangs up before another game of pass the phone can begin, and smiles at the astrophysicist now across from him.

 

“Hello, my name is Phil Coulson, and I’d like to talk to you about the exciting career opportunities as a scientist for SHIELD.  Should the _restrictions not be to your liking_ ,” he emphasizes, because he suspects that will come up, “We would love to hire you on as a consultant for space anomaly related cases.  _Feel free to talk with others,_ ” he looks pointedly at Stark, “ _before making a final decision._ We would like an answer by this evening.”

 

Jane is obviously confused by something so apparently left field, but Tony didn’t miss his cue, and gives a winning smile.

 

“Pick me,” he says, “I’ll fund your own lab.”

 

Darcy takes a bite out of a Berry Blaster, satisfied with a job well done.  “I’m such a good assistant,” she says, and takes her coffee from her boss.  She totally just earned every one of those calories, and thinks she deserves her science credits twice over.


	10. Chapter 10

The camper that Jane has isn’t big enough to accommodate everyone there, but that’s okay because apparently the Helicarrier has a Rec Room which boasts couches and a ping pong table.  Phil only knows because he went over the design meticulously before agreeing with it, and he only agreed with it because he and Tony are on the same side in an ongoing campaign against Fury’s last nerve.

 

Tony is pleased with his work, and points out that it obviously _was_ a necessary addition, since they’re utilizing it now for diplomatic purposes.

 

A ping pong ball lands in Stark’s drink, and Clint’s laugh is clearly identifiable across the room.  Most of the room’s occupants are just relieved he’s gotten past his unease with the billionaire.

 

Jane, Tony, Darcy, and, from over skype, Pepper, work together on Jane’s contract as a Stark Industries freelance researcher and developer of awesome tech.  Pepper vetoes that as an official title.  Phil, for his part, is content to wait patiently for his turn to negotiate contracts.  Both Steve and Thor are hovering around Tony, and when Darcy takes a moment to ask about the short haired blond’s twitchy fingers she lights up at his mention of art, digging a sketchbook and quite the array of drawing implements out of her bag.

 

Steve thanks her a tad excessively and settles in to draw, while Thor works on finishing up what muffins are left.

 

Natasha and Clint are engaged in a scarily serious ping pong tournament, and Coulson is finally free to relax and figure out what kind of paperwork he’s looking at for the Mermaid-Tony-is-now-dating-Steve incident.

 

It turns out that there isn’t a form for that, since Tony wasn’t turned into a mermaid by an outside cause, and isn’t a mermaid all the time.

 

Coulson sets to work on designing a new one, with ironically wavy watermarks.  He settles on something more general than mermaid, since he gets the feeling that this isn’t the last time someone he’s in charge of will have secretly been concealing superpowers and or abilities of genetically extra-terrestrial origin the whole time.  He leaves in the watermarks to piss Stark off.


End file.
